


The One Where Jim Is Not Always Jim

by Bam4Me



Series: a bond so bright, it makes you squint [3]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: By Old We Mean Jon, D/s, Dom!Spock, Jim Throws Up, Jim is very Self Loathing, Jimmy Is Now A Princess, Kitten!Jim, M/M, Posessive!Spock, Princess!Jim, SLIGHT femminization, Spock Does Not Want To Touch Him, Spock is trying to help, Sub!Jim, This was supposed to be the second fic and it kind of is, We Blame Yelling On The Old, allergic reactions, collaring, kitten play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 17:19:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5057167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bam4Me/pseuds/Bam4Me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set directly after the fic before it, but maybe like, a 3-4 month time span. Jim is still not in Starfleet, my mind got away from me and was like, 'you know what you don't write enough of anymore? kink' and so I wrote a kink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Where Jim Is Not Always Jim

**Author's Note:**

> You guys get a whole 6k of trash, so don't even complain to me, I will willfully ignore you.
> 
> This is full of grammatical errors, I'm so sorry. I don't want to fix it though. Please don't point them out to me.

When Uhura came over to her instructor’s house for their usual Tuesday lunch outing, she didn’t expect anything out of the ordinary.

 

She was quickly beginning to realize, that when James T. Kirk was involved –oh, and Spock was gonna get an earful about that one, not telling her that his bondmate was James T. Kirk of all the fucking people he could be bonded to- she should _not_ expect anything but variants of the unusual.

 

Jim was out in the front yard of their _perfect_ white picket fence home, yelling his head off into the open front door of the house while he murdered a diminutive tomato plant. At least, Uhura was pretty sure he was trying to murder it, otherwise, she kind of felt bad for it.

 

Well, at least, now, it made sense, why a _vulcan_ of all people would have a cutesy little human home –other than her constantly finding Spock’s own, very human, mother working in the garden out front, like Jim was attempting to do, whenever she was on the planet.

 

When Spock came out of the house, it quickly became clear that Jim wasn’t even yelling at him, when Spock, standing in the doorway, was suddenly, shouted _around_ when Jim nudged him aside just enough just that he could yell into the darkened front room, making Spock cringe –yes, outright cringe, it was kind of funny- when the yelling went right into his ear.

 

Jim pulled back, not looking sorry in the least, and tugged Spock’s face down with both hands, planting a firm kiss on his lips before sliding around him and into the house, where the shouting then resumed on full volume.

 

Spock looked over at the mangled remains of his mother’s tomato plants and sighed, making a mental note to buy new ones at the store before him and Uhura got back, so he could possibly make it look like Jim hadn’t gotten to them at all.

 

Spock came to the end of the small walkway, opening the tiny white fence that Uhura had always found kind of cute, and stepping through with what she could only call relief, on his face.

 

“What’s with all the yelling?”

 

Spock looked back at the house with disdain when they both heard a loud crash coming from the inside, vaguely hearing Sybok trying to… catch a cat?

 

If Spock were human –or more like his brother- he would have rolled his eyes, but, as it was, he lead Uhura away from the house with a hovering hand on her right shoulder, being sure not to actually touch skin lest he accidentally progect just how completely, to borrow Jim’s words, ‘done’ he was right now.

 

“They all claim to be shouting, because Admiral Archer cannot find his… hearing aids.”

 

Uhura frowned, looking up at him, “The admiral wears hearing aids?”

 

“No.”

 

Uhura couldn’t hold back a grin, chuckling just a little, “Oh. That’s an excuse in my house too, sometimes.”

 

Spock frowned, “But, it is a lie. Admiral Archer does not wear hearing aids, and Jim knows this, so does everyone else in the house. Even Sybok lies.”

 

He quietly added on that Sybok had always lied, though.

 

Uhura just shrugged, “It’s a human thing, and your brother acts fairly human most of the time. It’s, kind of like when you get caught doing something you’re not supposed to, and lie about it. Humans know they’re not supposed to yell in the house, because it creates chaos, so, families who regularly yell in the house, all tend to…” she stopped herself from backtracking and saying that it was like blaming the dog for that smell, not wanting to have to explain that one to him, too. “You say that someone lost their hearing aids, so if no one yells, they can’t hear anything, but it’s just… an excuse.”

 

Spock looked at her, vaguely amused, “Are you starting to see why lying is a bad idea?”

 

She scoffed, “Hell no. I know I’m right, I just don’t know how to explain it to someone who refuses to understand, like you’re doing now.”

 

Spock didn’t quite sputter, but it was a close thing, “It is not my refusal to understa-“

 

“It is, you grew up living inside the mind of the most illogical human to ever-“

 

“It is not Jim’s fault that-“

 

“Nope, not his fault, it’s yours, you’re being stubborn, and that-“

 

“Excuse me!”

 

The two of them looked over at the barista in the café they had just entered, an andorian male as far as they could both tell, who seemed to be annoyed with them for yelling in the café.

 

When they both left with their drinks later, neither of them mentioned Spock’s use of ‘lost hearing aids’ to get Cha to stop giving them the stink eye.

 

***

 

Gaila was… fucking awesome. She was the bestest best to ever best. Also, her friends, Scotty and Keenser, they were awesome too. AND, they were also engineering nerds.

 

Everything was awesome right now.

 

Gaila was awesome, this awesome pizza that hadn’t caused an allergic reaction in him so far was awesome. You know what would make things more awesome? Spock. Spock makes things awesome.

 

Jim nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand slide down his throat and chest till it stopped at his stomach. He felt Spock’s mind, normally nestled inside of his, mesh into the actual touch and feel control center of his mind, which brought him crashing back to reality so fast, it nearly gave him a headache.

 

Spock seemed apologetic though, bending over the back of the couch to press against his shoulder, still hugging him from behind. “Ashayam, you need rest.”

 

Jim sighed, no longer locked into that cosy part of his mind where he didn’t have to think about anything but pizza and the slowly filling journal in his lap, filled with equations that he couldn’t fully comprehend now that he had been interrupted. Spock let his other hand go down and close it for him before he could get upset about that, taking it from him while he was still pliant.

 

He heard a snore and looked over to the other couch to see Scotty passed out there, and Gaila below him on the floor, construction a small clay model of… something… he’s pretty sure he knew what it was in his math riddled state of exhaustion ten minutes ago. He looked back down at the closed journal and made a small sound, going to pick it back up and see _what_ exactly he had been working on.

 

“String theory.” Spock murmured into his ear, sounding impressed.

 

Jim raised an eyebrow, “Since when am I smart enough to do string theory?” He paused, watching Keenser sit on Scotty’s arm on the couch, which went unnoticed while the small alien continued working on whatever homework it was that they gave advanced engineer cadets at the academy. “Or stupid enough, Christ, Spock, isn’t there a penalty for achieving string theory? Why the hell would I attempt that?”

 

Spock hummed, nuzzling soothingly against Jim’s side as his bondmate sagged tiredly. “There is no punishment for achieving string theory, only using it. I surmise that you only tried to achieve it in a fit of exhaustion, and would not have actually done anything with it. When have you last rested?”

 

Jim honestly thought about that for a moment, before his eyes went wide, “Shit, what day is it?”

 

“You slept for like, six hours yesterday, I wouldn’t be worried.”

 

They both looked up at Gaila, who was frowning at her PADD. “It’s a Sunday.”

 

Jim squinted at the window, which was dark, “Morning, or night?”

 

“Morning. Um, I should wake Scotty up, he has to go to work in three hours, he might want to shower and change.”

 

Keenser suddenly made an upset noise when he was nearly tipped off the couch, Scotty shooting up at the mention of his name. “No, Jim didn’t sleep six hours yesterday.”

 

Jim squinted at the other side of the room before looking around for his glasses. When they were on, he could see the half awake, dazed look on the man’s face. “I didn’t?”

 

Scotty blinked a few times before turning and leaning heavily on Keenser, shaking his head, “No. You slept two and a half, and when you woke up, Gaila made dinner, which you turned out to be allergic to. After Dr. McCoy left, cause he shot you up with a bunch of shady looking hypos, you decided that you felt like you could stay awake forever and solve all the worlds issues.”

 

Keenser made a noise of agreement. Jim still wasn’t sure if the alien didn’t actually talk, or if he just wasn’t awake enough to, but he personally thought Keenser’s voice sounded very nice when he hummed.

 

Yep, he was beyond tired.

 

And he wasn’t even _in_ Starfleet yet. He couldn’t imagine how much _fun_ study group was going to be when he was around as something other than moral support and free food. (Well, not _free_ , but he didn’t need to buy much since Spock and Amanda tended to do all the shopping.)

 

He looked back down at the journal again before frowning, “Gaila, when did _you_ last sleep?”

 

She poked at a part of her clay model, and made an upset noise when it fell off, shrugging, “Possibly too long ago.”

 

“You guys want to use the spare rooms?”

 

***

 

Jim was lying on the grass outside the science building, wearing loose pants and a tee-shirt. He seemed to have adjusted to the cold on Earth in the time he had been in Iowa, but the day outside was _hot_ in terms of terran weather, and he was enjoying it, laying out in the full sun while he waited for Spock to finish teaching a class on advanced warp theory. Boring as fuck.

 

Hell, it was nearly putting him to sleep, listening to Spock drone on about things like, ew, math. He yawned painfully large and nuzzled into his forearms laying on the grass, before groaning when a shadow fell over him. That was fucking cold.

 

“You’re allergic to grass.”

 

Jim squinted up at Sybok, who was wearing a lab coat with a PADD in his hands, frowning down at him. “All humans are allergic to grass.”

 

“Yes, but for most of them it just makes them itch. When you lay on grass, it gives you hives.”

 

Jim groaned and stood up, looking over at the science building and willing his bondmate to come out to be with him. He felt a mental reprimand in return for his troubles, and turned back to Sybok to complain to him about his brother being mean to him. He jumped though when he felt a hypo being emptied into his neck, glaring up at the trauma doctor. “Did you _have_ to do that?”

 

Sybok scowled, “Well, the last time you got hives, you touched an antaran and _gave_ them hives. I’m not letting you run around with itchy skin untreated, it only leads to issues.”

 

Jim got a petulant look on his face, “How do you know he wasn’t just allergic to humans?”

 

Sybok looked up at the sky, “Oi vay.”

 

Jim puffed up, looking indigent. “I met a guy once, pretty sure he was a boraalan, but you can’t be sure cause there’s like, fifty million species in this galaxy, but like, every time he touched an andorian, he went into anaphylactic shock, so I’m _pretty_ sure it’s possible.”

 

Sybok sighed, looking so done right now, “Wasn’t that a ferangi holo-drama? An incorrect one too?”

 

Jim gave that some serious thought, “Okay, you might be right there, but you can’t deny that some people _have_ exhibited allergic reactions to-“

 

“Oh thank god,” Sybok interrupted him when he saw Spock walking their way, “now, take him and leave, he’s disturbing the natives.”

 

Jim somehow managed to look even more offended, “I am _not_! I was simply engaging in-“ Jim’s words cut off when Spock, giving up on nudging Jim out of the quad, simply picked his bondmate up by the waist. Jim was about to argue, maybe knee him in the side if he didn’t get his way –never say that Jim Kirk didn’t fight dirty- when he realized he still had the perfect view point to yell at Sybok some more. “And another thing-“

 

Spock rounded a sharp corner with Jim still in his arms, continuing to carry him for another block and a half while Jim ranted at a non-existent opponent. It was fascinating, but very counterproductive to his wish to get Jim home, and in bed before the hypo Sybok just shot into his neck, knocked him out.

 

“Spock?”

 

Spock hummed in reply.

 

“You should put me down, I might throw up on you if you don’t.”

 

Spock did, watching his weary bondmate get to the curb of the street before losing his lunch on the ground. He wanted to help Jim, maybe pat his back like Leonard used to do for Jim when he had a stomach ache as a child, but he also didn’t want to… touch him…

 

He looked down at his hands, wishing he had a pair of gloves on him so he could do so without worry, but then Jim spoke up, still breathing hard. “It’s okay, I don’t want you to touch me anyways, I’m fine, Spock. Sybok was right, though. I’m already getting hives. If you touched me now, it might just hurt.”

 

Spock let out the tiniest sigh of relief before going to Jim’s side anyways, “We should get a cab home.”

 

He opened his satchel and reached past the papers for grading and grabbed a packet of tissues for Jim while he flagged a cab for transport back home. Jim wiped his mouth out as well as he could without water and stumbled into the cab after him, making pained noises as he settled back against the relatively cold seat.

 

Jim leaned back, feeling suddenly tired. The righteous fury he’d felt as a result of the endorphin booster in the hypo, was now being drowned out by the allergy medication to stop his allergic reaction, and he felt a mixture of very sick, and extremely tired. Fuck.

 

“Spock?”

 

“Yes, James?”

 

Jim felt too tired right now to concentrate on speaking through their bond, but he turned his head to the side so he could look at the vulcan, keeping his distance, but watching him carefully. “Can you do that thing that Bones does? The oatmeal bath?”

 

Spock raised an eyebrow but nodded, “I have seen him do it for you enough times that I believe I can replicate it. I assumed you never liked it, though.”

 

Jim smiled, “No, it’s fine, but if I don’t grump at him he thinks something is wrong. I’d do it myself, but I always do it wrong, doesn’t feel right.”

 

Spock was quiet while Jim, hazily looked past his shoulder, watching the trees go by in a blur. “Mother once said, that things that you good for you, usually feel better when another gives them to you, because it shows that they care for your well being. It’s not that you are doing it wrong, just that the element of caring is missing.”

 

Jim shrugged, “Well then, maybe I want my amazing, strong, perfect bondmate, to take care of me while I sit in water that is oddly chunky.”

 

Spock got an amused look on his face, and Jim mentally cursed for a second when he realized he could only tell because he could feel it. He hated how cold his husband had become since childhood. It wasn’t mentally, never mentally, just… so defensive against anyone that wasn’t family.

 

Fuck, he needed a bath and bed before he started getting all weepy and weird.

 

Spock reached out and gently rubbed at the back of Jim’s neck, which, though it felt cold and clammy, Spock’s hand was dry and fairly warm, and it felt nice. “You get very… poetic, when tired.”

 

Jim snorted, leaning into the touch. “Fuck, I’m always poetic, my poems just get worse the more tired I am.”

 

“They do.”

 

When Jim was laying back in the warm water, ten minutes later, not yet full of oatmeal, because Spock was insistent that he remove the grime off his body before so it didn’t just continue chafing him, he felt Spock’s warm hands washing his hair for him, and just about melted into the water, loving the feeling of him in his hair. “You should do this for me more often. In fact, if you weren’t so disgusted by water that you lay in or whatever it is that you vulcans have a hang up over, you could join me, and I could do this for you, too.”

 

Spock didn’t seem very amused. “Sonic showers are much more hygienic. Though soaking your body in heated water, does have acceptable uses to relive pain in the human body, or soaking in oatmeal to relive irritation in skin, sonic showers are more efficient, and work better.”

 

Jim sighed, letting Spock pour water over his head. “The next time I feel icky and sore all over, will you cuddle with me in a bathtub?”

 

He looked up with a blinding smile, that only grew when Spock’s cheeks turned a little green. Spock leaned down, and Jim thought for a second that he was going to kiss him, but Spock just gently took one on Jim’s arms, lifting it out of the water and sliding against the smooth skin. “Your hives are gone.”

 

Jim looked down and nodded, “Hmm, guess I don’t need that oatmeal anyways. Though, I would still like a cuddle.” After all, Spock hadn’t said no.

 

Spock nodded firmly, reaching over to flick the switch and open up the drain, making Jim frown. But, Spock just took him by the arm he was still holding and helped him stand up, wrapping him up in a giant towel the moment he was out of the water.

 

Jim let out a small squeak when Spock picked him up for the second time that day, this time one arm under his knees and one behind his back, making Jim grin like a dope when Spock carried him out of the bathroom and into their bedroom.

 

Jim wasn’t fully sure what he had been expecting, still too tired to probe at Spock for the moment, but the bed sheets were soft, and Spock took the towel and dried him off the rest of the way, and Jim felt very tired and safe right now, which was something he hadn’t actually felt for a rather long time.

 

Spock didn’t touch him like he was hungry for him, though. He dried him off and helped him into a pair of his own sleep pants, like he was something precious. When Spock tugged the tee shirt onto his torso and left for a moment, returning with his bag and a PADD, settling onto the bed next to Jim, Jim felt like crying.

 

It wasn’t bad, just, Spock always seemed to take care of him when he was falling apart.

 

And Jim had left him, probably when he had needed him most. He’d selfishly left him and run off because he couldn’t stand looking at him every day, and knowing how perfect Spock was, and how awful he was himself.

 

“You are not selfish. You did not leave me.”

 

Jim swallowed, tears leaking out of his eyes, even though he was trying not to cry. “Yes I did.”

 

Spock set his things down and pulled Jim into the vee of his legs, propping him up just enough that he could sleep against him, and still be held in his arms. “No, because I’m the selfish one. You were not so far away from me, that I could not feel, or go to you.”

 

“What’s that got to do with it?”

 

Spock leaned down to kiss Jim’s lips, upside down. “If you had gone any further, I would have followed. To a bonded pair, space is not always a bad thing, and though you are human, you’re the one that asked for it. If you had asked me to stay away though, I would have become the selfish one, and refused to leave your side.”

 

Jim sniffled a little, feeling emotionally raw, “Yeah? Keeping me on a short leash?”

 

Spock’s mind got a little warmer against his, like it always did when Jim was falling asleep, or retreating inside for some reason. “Would you like me to keep you on an actual leash?”

 

Jim sniffled again, no longer crying at least, “That might be fun.”

 

“I will find a suitable shop of wares to make sure you have your fun.”

 

Jim smiled, nuzzling down into Spock’s stomach. “I don’t want to sleep.”

 

Spock was quiet for a moment, “Studies show, that humans who are deprived of sleep, when they finally succumb to it, find that the feeling is similar to that of dying, and are afraid to go back to sleep because of this fear.”

 

Jim frowned, “So how do I sleep, then?”

 

“I could read to you? It’s shown that consistent external stimulus, in the form of sound, can soothe the mind into a state of relaxation.”

 

“Better not be one of those essays you brought home. Those are all shit, I bet.”

 

Spock smiled and kissed Jim again, “What of, Harry Potter?”

 

“The fourth one? I like that one.”

 

“Of course you do.”

 

Spock pulled up the file on his PADD, letting Jim stay on his stomach while he got through half a chapter of the book, Jim falling asleep on him quickly.

 

***

 

“So, we weren’t joking when you said that, were we?”

 

“I did not sense that you were joking, nor did I have any reason to myself, and so I simply surmised that you were honest.”

 

Jim sighed, “Look, Spock, it’s not that I don’t want to, trust me, I do, but I think you and I are looking at this from different angles.”

 

Spock seemed confused, “We live in each other’s minds, how can we-“

 

“It means, I think I’m thinking of this more seriously than you are, for once in our lives.”

 

Spock looked honest to god shocked, mouth parted and gaping like a dork, oh god, Jim wanted to laugh at him, but he needed to take this seriously right now. He sighed, setting down his coffee cup on the counter and rounding the table so he could slide into Spock’s lap, the vulcan finally closing his mouth and putting his hands on Jim’s waist.

 

“I know that when you said you would get me a collar, you weren’t joking. That’s not the issue. But, I’m not sure you fully understand what that would mean to me, or else you would have never offered.”

 

Spock’s face softened, hands pulling Jim tight to his lap. “Ashayam, if I had not known what you meant when we talked of that, I would have never offered at all. I know what it would mean to own you.”

 

Jim shivered a little in his arms, liking the sound of that. Still though… “Spock, why would you want to do that?”

 

“Why do you think I do not already claim ownership of you now?”

 

Jim looked away, feeling uneasy, “Well, that would mean a lot, like, dealing with me-“

 

“James,” Spock interrupted with one hand on Jim’s chin, forcing him to look in his eyes. “I am your _husband_ and your bondmate. You are my t’hy’la, and the one made for me and only me. If I am correct in my understanding of terran culture, that means taking everything from you, the good, and the bad. I do not understand why you believe I do not want to see the bad that comes with you.”

 

Jim sighed, leaning in to press his face against Spock’s neck, “Why would you, though?”

 

He sighed again, pulling back without waiting for an answer, “Why do _you_ want to put a collar on my neck?”

 

Spock looked down at Jim’s throat, face heating up the smallest bit. “I feel, the… primal urge, to claim ownership of you, to all who would see it.”

 

Jim raised an eyebrow, looking amused, “Don’t most people just get wedding rings? We could do that.”

 

Spock shook his head minutely, “No. I want everyone to know that I claim you in more than just marriage, I claim your everything.”

 

Jim was the one that turned red this time, feeling tingly all over, “O-oh? Well, I want something to claim you, too.”

 

Spock leaned in to press his lips to Jim’s, smiling when Jim leaned into him. “You will have that.”

 

***

 

“You know, I can’t wear a collar with the cadet uniform at Starfleet.”

 

Spock lead Jim down a busy San Francisco street the next afternoon, Jim’s right hand tangled up with his left one. For a vulcan, it was almost obscene. Spock did not dislike that.

 

The shop he was bringing them to was actually a shop, entirely _for_ collars, which in several humanoid species, were apparently the equivalent of wedding rings, and so they weren’t walking into a sex shop at least. Spock would loath to do that, what with Jim being allergic to latex, and a petulance for touching every new thing he found. It was best to keep him out of harm’s way when possible.

 

“There is nothing in the cadet handbook about wearing wrist adornments, and so we will find something suitable. Hopefully though, we can write an allowance form, stating that a collar is tantamount to a wedding ring in our marriage, and they might allow it.”

 

Jim snickered, thinking of Jon opening a request form from his nephew, asking him to let him wear a collar on campus. The look on his face would be amazing. “I’ll be sure to do that. Gaila said not to get anything with jewels on it, cause they always look gaudy. Apparently, when her little brother got married, his fiancé made her look for something to collar him with, and she kept looking at things that had big studs on them, and Gaila had to talk her out of it cause she knew her brother wouldn’t like them. She said we should look for something baby blue, or black.”

 

Spock paused, opening the door to the collar shop with his covered elbow on the door press, instead of his hand. Jim followed him into the store, looking excitable. “Is a blue collar no longer considered to be a collar of consideration, on this world?”

 

Jim gave him a funny look, apparently, Spock had been doing research. He was going to reply that he didn’t care cause he knew it would look pretty with his eyes, but was beat to it by the shop keeper.

 

“Blue collars are normally still worn for humans _before_ the actual relationship begins, but when a married couple, or a non-human couple, wears them, that usually means something else.”

 

Jim turned to give the older man a smile, “Thank you. See, Spock? I want a blue one, to match my eyes.”

 

Spock looked amused, “I thought you said you might also want a black one?”

 

Jim scowled, looking around, “Well, maybe I want a pink one, too!”

 

It was an awful comeback, to be honest. Spock felt amused in their bond, face nearing a smirk as he looked down at Jim. “Would you like the tag to say, ‘Princess’ as well?”

 

Jim refused to back down, “Maybe I do! I’m an unpredictable person, maybe I want a blue one that says ‘Kitten’ and a pink one that says ‘Princess’ and a black one that says ‘Jim’!”

 

The shop keeper was looking at them like they were the best holo-drama ever. Jim didn’t blame him, they tended to make a scene wherever they went. Spock, was now, honestly, holding back a smile. Jim called that one a win for him.

 

Though, when they left the shop, and hour later, with exactly what Jim had asked for, plus four more, Jim wasn’t so sure he won that one anymore. Spock seemed way too smug.

 

***

 

“Why does it declare you as royalty?”

 

Jim laughed, watching Scotty face palm with a science text book, while Keenser and Gaila inspected his new, pink collar, with a heart shaped tag that proudly declared him as ‘Princess’ because, he was. As far as he’s concerned, his preferred pronouns have always been ‘your majesty,’ and he’s okay with that.

 

“It’s like, a nickname for terrans. Usually for girls, but I’ve never been one for gender segregation, to be honest. At first the collar was kind of a joke, but pink goes good with black, and I mostly wear black, so I wore the pink one.”

 

Scotty leaned around his back, looking at the silver clasp while Gaila firmly told Jim that baby blue goes good with black too. “You didn’t get one with a lock.”

 

Jim shook his head with a shrug, “Eh, I’m not stupid, I know fully well that there will always be a situation out of my control where I might need to take it off, and I’m not into the idea of _cutting_ it off just cause I was being an idiot and wanted him to have full control over me. I don’t want him to _control_ me, just, you know…” He looked away, feeling like he just didn’t know how to explain.

 

Gaila though, who grew up in a race where females were naturally dominant, and Scotty, who understood humans on a level that only other humans could, they got him. Jim wasn’t sure if Keenser got him, cause he never said anything, but Jim’s pretty sure he was trying to smile at him, and that was nice.

 

Jim turned to Galia though, “But, I _did_ get a baby blue one, matches my eyes, just like you told me to. That one’s tag says, ‘Kitten’ cause I know that Spock secretly loves cats, and sometimes he pets me, and I think it fits. We also got a black one, three matching wrist shackles, without tags, but with inscriptions on them, and one thin one for Spock’s left wrist.”

 

“He gets one too?”

 

Jim nodded, “Yeah. It looks like a regular collar, but tiny, and goes on the wrist, and it says ‘Property of Jimmy’ on it. He approves of it very much.”

 

Galia giggled a little, looking excited. Scotty eyed the collar he was wearing though, “It seems so… plain. Well, plain for something you would wear.”

 

Jim shrugged, “It’s an everyday collar, not a scene one.”

 

Scotty hummed, but didn’t say anything until Jim nudged him, making the engineer hum again. Jim continued doing it until Scotty broke.

 

“Jim! Okay, fine, it’s a nice collar, you have my approval!” Jim cheered loudly, getting the attention of several people in the sunny quad, ignoring Scotty muttering about it being weird that it said ‘Princess’ though.

 

***

 

“Aren’t I such a _good_ kitty though?”

 

Spock did not reply to his bondmate, still making up papers while they sat on the couch in the living room. Jim was wearing the baby blue collar, lounging across Spock’s lap with eye liner whiskers on his face, and fake cat ears on his head. His hands were trapped by a pair of cat designer hand mitts, which Spock had lovingly put on him just an hour before, which Jim appreciated, because, that was nice of him.

 

Jim whined, shoving into Spock’s lap with the upper half of his body, sounding needy. “Sp _ock_ stop ignoring me.”

 

Spock raised an eyebrow, putting the papers he was marking on Jim’s chest and continuing. “The last I have heard, cats do not speak, James.”

 

Jim downright pouted at him, “Maybe they do when you’re being a meanie face to them!”

 

Spock nearly smirked at the indignation coming through their bond, before making a noise of surprise when Jim leaned up, knocking his papers out of the way and kissing him solidly on the mouth.

 

Spock let him though, one hand trailing down Jim’s bare chest before slipping under the waist band of his sweats, nearly pulling back to reprimand him for not wearing underwear. He slid his hand around the mostly hard cock, making Jim moan, thrusting up into his hand in surprise, slowly getting harder.

 

When Jim was fully hard though, Spock’s hand slid to the bottom of his cock, before putting harsh pressure on it and pulling his mouth away.

 

Jim whined at him, dazed and confused, but Spock just pulled his hand back out. “I still have work to do.”

 

Jim whined, slipping off Spock’s lap so he could glare at him from the other side of the couch while he tried to figure out how to get these stupid hand mitts off. They were cute when Spock first put them on him, but he didn’t have actual use of his hands right now, and he was very hard.

 

He didn’t get them off before Spock finished his grading, but he did get a reward for not bothering him anymore.

 

Jim liked rewards.

 

***

 

“Okay, but am I a good _princess_ then?”

 

Spock looked at Jim –sweet sweet, naked Jim, wearing only his Princess collar and a pretty plug with a giant pink jewel on the end of it- and thought about that for a moment, “I met a vulcan princess once,” He said, thinking of T’Pring, “she was not a pleasant person.”

 

Jim thought about that for a moment, “I’m not sure if I should be mad that you’re thinking about girls while in bed with me, or happy that I am more pleasant than her?”

 

Spock raised an eyebrow, still standing in the doorway of their bathroom, “I am not yet in bed with you.”

 

Jim let out the loudest groan, tearing up all the blankets and burying himself under them in a pile, “I’m not talking to you anymore.”

 

Spock sighed, coming to sit on the bed next to the human, letting his legs go under the covers where Jim was and had them immediately pinned to Jim’s chest as the man cuddled up to him, despite his annoyance. “You do not have to speak, ashayam.”

 

“Good, cause I don’t wanna.”

 

Spock didn’t point out that that was still speaking to him, simply sitting in wait for his bonded to stop pouting.

 

When Jim finally came out of the blanket pile five minutes later, he slid up against Spock’s chest, his right leg going over Spock’s hips so he could press his erection against Spock’s pelvic bone.

 

“Can we fuck now? I’m really horny still.”

 

“I can see that.”

 

Jim just rolled his eyes and tugged down Spock’s sweats and off his legs.

 

The room was hot enough that they didn’t need clothes to feel warm, and Spock was cool against him, making Jim sigh and lean into his touch. He’d gotten rather hot, hiding under those blankets.

 

-

 

When they were laid out in a contented pile of limbs and with Spock holding onto Jim’s waist, Jim sighed against Spock’s neck. Spock just turned and kissed his forehead, “You are a very good princess, Jim.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

***

 

“I think I like this change.”

 

Spock looked down at Jim lounging in his lap, eyes sleepily closing and opening while Spock pet his hand through his hair, quietly reading Jim the third lord of the Rings in their minds while attempting to convince the sleep deprived human to take a nap.

 

“Do you not realize, nothing has actually changed? You simply feel more… open to me.”

 

Jim shrugged, “Still, I like feeling like you’ll take care of me, no matter what stupid things I get into. It’s nice.”

 

“It is.”

**Author's Note:**

> That - at the second to last scene? I deleted that sex scene, cause I forced that out and it was so bad it nearly made me cry, I'm not sorry.


End file.
